


amarillion

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aromantic Akaashi Keiji, College, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4053223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So you and Kuroo finally dating?”<br/>“What?” Koutarou said, sure that he’d misheard.<br/>“Dating,” Akaashi said again, leaning forward slightly, his frown deepening.<br/>“No, no,” Koutarou said. “Haha! What? No."</p>
<p>Or, the story of how Koutarou falls for his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	amarillion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [widow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widow/gifts).



> **content warning for alcohol and emetophobia** \- someone throws up once; it is not described in detail, and only referenced once after the fact. they do however drink a lot of alcohol.
> 
> this is for shannon, who is so much more than just the kuroo to my bokuto. thank you to arsenicjay, tocktober and kastron for helping me with this whole thing. bokuto is demirom, though it's not explicitly stated. the title is from datarock's song of the same name, which influenced the mood of the fic greatly.

“Bro, this place is sweet,” Koutarou said with awe, looking around the small apartment. He had the last box in his arms, and Kuroo accepted it gratefully.

“It’s tiny,” he said, but Koutarou could hear how pleased he was. “It’ll do, though.”

“You bet it will,” Koutarou promised. “This is gonna be the best year ever!”

“College life, bro,” Kuroo said, putting on an accent like they’d done months ago, when they’d first started talking about this. Koutarou laughed.

“Yeah! I’ll be over here so much, you have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” Kuroo said, placing the box on the floor. “I only have one bed, though, as you can see.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Koutarou said with a smirk.

Kuroo returned it. “Yeah, at least I know you don’t kick.”

“Not unless you’re into that,” Koutarou agreed, and started opening boxes to the sound of Kuroo’s laughter. “Man, I wish I’d found my own place now.”

“I told you we could’ve found a place together,” Kuroo said. “But your parents do live really close to campus, there’s no point. Trust me. Like you said -” he gestured around, “- we’ll just hang out here.”

“Alright,” Koutarou said. “More importantly, some international girls in the hallway were talking about a party tonight. You up for it?”

“Bro,” Kuroo said, “I’m sad you think you have to ask.”

Koutarou grinned.

*

What followed were a bunch of firsts, all of them fun. They went to their first university party laden with beer and eager for a good time - Koutarou didn’t really know what a university party was supposed to be like, but he knew they were going to be good. All parties were good when he went with Kuroo.

They grabbed a beer each and found some guys who played football, talking to them about tournaments and what sports teams were on campus. Koutarou did most of the talking, although Kuroo would cut in every so often. Without Akaashi there, Koutarou tried to see how far he could go with his bragging - it was fun, because Kuroo would either cut him down just as fast or go along with it, grinning beside Koutarou.

Eventually he split off and ended up with a circle of girls - one of them was the American who’d invited him, Jane. There always seemed to be a beer in his hand, and the girls were getting harder to distinguish from each other, but they were nice.

“Kou,” Kuroo said, pressing a cup into his hand. “Refill.”

“You’re the _best_ ,” Koutarou said with feeling. “You wanna stay?”

Kuroo shook his head. “Nah, I found some good people to talk to,” he said. Koutarou watched him walk away with a grin. Kuroo noticed, clearly putting more of a swing in his step, and Koutarou whistled after him. He turned with a smirk and yelled, “You want some of this, bro?”

“You know I do,” Koutarou shouted, and almost pissed himself laughing at Kuroo’s face.

“Who’s he?” Jane asked, when he turned back to the girls.

“Best friend,” Koutarou said. “He’s really awesome, but he’s gay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jane said. She was laughing.

Then he dared them to all chug their drinks at the same time, and, well -

He didn’t remember much after that.

After their first party came their first student gym membership (“This is _awesome_ ,” Koutarou exclaimed. “Bro - gym selfie, come on!”), first volleyball practice (“Let’s go show them what we’re made of,” Kuroo said, and they fistbumped) and first lectures - which were a downer, but everything else was so _perfect_ that Koutarou didn’t even mind the mind-numbingly boring introduction lectures he had to sit through.

This was going to be epic.

*

“Bro,” Koutarou said, as the door to Kuroo’s apartment slammed shut behind him. “Let’s go out tonight!”

“Kenma’s coming over,” Kuroo said, the highlighter in his mouth garbling his words. He was sitting crosslegged on his bed, frowning down at the textbook in his lap, and he took the highlighter out of his mouth to mark something off. “I told you that already.”

“Again?” Koutarou threw himself down on the bed beside Kuroo, jostling him slightly. “That’s cool. Do you want me to fuck off?”

“You can stay,” Kuroo said, automatically patting Koutarou’s stomach where his shirt had ridden up. “Not for the night, though, there’s not room for all of us.”

“Of course,” Koutarou agreed. He turned onto his stomach and scooted around until his face was by Kuroo’s knee, giving his textbook a curious glance before looking up at him. “It’s Friday, why are you doing work?”

“I don’t wanna do anything while Kenma’s here,” Kuroo said. “You could stand to do a little more work too, you know.”

“You’re so lucky,” Koutarou lamented, completely ignoring the latter part of Kuroo’s statement. “No one from Fukurodani visits me.”

“Konoha was at your place the other day!”

“To give me stuff I’d forgotten in the locker room,” Koutarou said mournfully. “That doesn’t count.”

Kuroo sighed and looked down at him. He drew a line over Koutarou’s nose with his highlighter, not stopping despite Koutarou’s protests. “Stop being an idiot, bro,” he said, “just ask Akaashi over.”

“I will,” Koutarou said loudly, fending off further highlighter attacks. “But first I’m going to get my ass handed to me by Kozume. I can’t wait.”

“Story of my life,” Kuroo said with a sigh, finally putting a cap on his highlighter. “He’s way too good at everything. It’s ridiculous.”

Koutarou patted Kuroo’s knee in solidarity. “It’s okay, bro,” he said. “It’s okay.”

After Kozume had come over and soundly beat him at any video game Koutarou suggested, he took his leave, putting his shoes on to the sound of Kuroo shouting, “Yeah, get out of here, _loser_.”

“He played better than you,” Kozume said, and Kuroo imitated the sound of a firing gun, slumping down as if shot. “Kuro, that’s not news.”

“I know, I know,” Kuroo sighed, and heaved himself up off the couch to give Koutarou a hug goodbye, his chest warm against Koutarou’s own.

“See you around,” Koutarou said, and waved to Kozume, who gestured a farewell with the controller still in his hands.

The air outside was fresh and smelled of flowers, and Koutarou hummed as he made his way home. It wasn’t far, a fact that both Kuroo and Koutarou had checked when Kuroo was first looking for accommodation, and the walk was scenic. Koutarou saw a girl sketching as she walked, and something about her hands reminded him of Akaashi, which again reminded him of Kuroo’s suggestion.

So he got his phone out and called him, already grinning in anticipation.

_“Bokuto.”_

“Akaashi! My main man! What’s up?”

Akaashi sounded confused, but not annoyed that Koutarou had called him, and it didn’t take long for Koutarou to badger him into visiting that weekend, insisting that he needed a personal update on how the team was doing.

_“I could just tell you right now,”_ Akaashi was saying, _“Fukurodani is--”_

“Nuh-uh,” Koutarou said. “In person!” He hung up on Akaashi’s sigh.

*

The problem was, Koutarou found out, that they didn’t actually have that much to talk about.

Akaashi sat on the couch, his posture straight without being rigid, while Koutarou fiddled with a piece of paper he’d found on the table. “How are the first years?” he asked.

“Good,” Akaashi said. “Better than last years’. You wouldn’t have worried about these ones.”

“Ah, that’s good,” Koutarou said, flipping the piece of paper round and round in his hands. “Practice going okay and all?”

“Yes,” Akaashi said. “How is university?”

“It’s cool!” Koutarou nodded, looking at him. “My courses are okay, kinda boring, but everyone says they’re supposed to be in the beginning.”

Akaashi hummed.

There was silence, and Koutarou grasped for something to fill it with - he ended up talking about the first party he and Kuroo went to, some of the girls he met there, and how cool it was that there were so many international people in the dorms where Kuroo lived.

“You and Kuroo are together a lot, then?” Akaashi inquired, and Koutarou nodded.

“I’m pretty sure I sleep there more than here, these days,” he said with a laugh, and Akaashi smiled back at him, looking surprised.

“So you’re finally dating?”

Koutarou blinked.

Akaashi’s brow furrowed slightly.

“What?” Koutarou said, sure that he’d misheard.

“Dating,” Akaashi said again, leaning forward slightly, his frown deepening.

“No, no,” Koutarou said. “Haha! What? No.”

“Oh.” Akaashi sat back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Koutarou laughed and crumpled the paper he was still holding into a ball. “It’s fine,” he said. “Ridiculous, though, me and - Kuroo? Come on, he’s my bro!”

“Calm down,” Akaashi said.

“I am calm!”

“You’re yelling.”

“I’m not yelling!”

Akaashi sighed. “University hasn’t changed you much.”

Koutarou stopped protesting and pulled a face. “That’s mean, Akaashi.”

Akaashi raised his eyebrows. Koutarou looked back at him, and they had a silent stare-off for a couple of minutes before Koutarou finally broke the gaze.

“Ridiculous,” he said. “How’s captainship?”

Akaashi let the clumsy subject change slide, leaning back and shrugging. “There’s not much difference,” he said. “But the team works differently without your -” he paused, giving Koutarou a pointed look, and continued, “energy.”

“Of course it does,” Koutarou said, “I’m awesome, so it must be different without me.”

“How is your new team?” Akaashi asked.

“It’s weird to be on the same team as Kuroo,” Koutarou said. “He’s good, though, you know, he does really - what’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” Akaashi said. He paused, then added, “You really haven’t changed.”

“Feh,” Koutarou said, exaggerating his grimace, and the slight smile Akaashi gave him was worth it.

*

_Dating_ , Akaashi had said. _Finally_ , like he’d been waiting for it.

What did that even mean? He and Kuroo weren’t “finally dating”, they were just bros - two bros broing it up at university, there was nothing gay about that. Koutarou didn’t know what Akaashi was implying. _Finally_. Had there been bets? Did people really think that he and Kuroo would get together?

The thought made Koutarou laugh, even if it also made his palms kind of sweaty. Him and Kuroo getting together in university - that was hilarious. Akaashi must have thought Koutarou meant _sleeping with him_  sleeping with him, too, which meant Akaashi thought they’d already be that comfortable with each other, which was _ridiculous_ , even though Koutarou liked touching Kuroo and he liked to annoy him so much that Kuroo would say his name to get him to shut up. Anyway - it was only a matter of practicalities, because Kuroo lived alone, and Koutarou still lived with his parents. Of course Koutarou would be spending his time there when they were hanging out, and of course they were hanging out a lot, Kuroo was awesome, he was the best thing in Koutarou’s life.

That didn’t mean Koutarou liked him like that, though. He could appreciate how fine his bro was, but that was just because Kuroo was super fine, and most people took note. And _fine_ , Koutarou may have entertained the thought of kissing the smug smirk off his face when he first got to know him, when they were just two obnoxious assholes pissing each other off while Tokyo was at its hottest, but that was way back. Things were different now, and there was their whole friendship to consider, although if Koutarou were _pushed_ about it, he probably wouldn’t object to hanging out with Kuroo like he was now and then having sex after.

And maybe go on dates, or something.

_Dating_.

Fucking Akaashi. He just always had to be right about these things.

This called for a distraction.

*

After spending the beginning of the week pitying himself, Koutarou tried to approach the problem again. So he liked Kuroo. He should probably ask him out. That was what came next, although Koutarou hadn’t really been in this position before - not really. Even though he’d tried a couple of relationships back in high school, there had always been always something else going on, something bigger that he had to focus on.

“Hey, Kuroo,” he said, poking him across the table.

“What’s up,” Kuroo said distractedly, belatedly looking up from his textbook. “You struggling?”

Koutarou shook his head. He flipped a page in his own book halfheartedly. “I was wondering something…”

“Well?” Kuroo prompted when he didn’t continue.

“Do you, uh, you know - do you wanna go out on Friday?” Koutarou asked, stumbling over his words.

“To the party? Yeah, bro, I already said we’re going.” Kuroo looked confused. “That’s fine, right?”

“What party,” said Koutarou.

“Touyama’s party. Next door, you know.”

“Oh - yeah, that party,” Koutarou said and tried to laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I meant! It’ll be awesome.”

Kuroo frowned at him for a second, before the lines between his brows eased and he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Cool,” said Koutarou. Once Kuroo looked back down at his textbook, Koutarou caught his own reflection in the window and mouthed _coward_.

*

The buzz was catching up with Koutarou, making him sway where he stood. The room was packed and sweaty, someone was playing music and people were smoking out the windows. Koutarou could smell weed, and the thought of it made him bounce, a happy warmth spreading out into his fingertips. He needed to find Kuroo and tell him how great he was. “I’m sorry,” he said to the guy talking to him - who might not have been talking to him at all, judging by the surprised expression when Koutarou apologized to him, but that was fine.

“Koutarou!” He heard Jane’s excited yell before he saw her - she was propped up against the wall, grinning widely. “How are you!”

“I’m good!” Koutarou replied, just as enthusiastically, and they chatted loudly about classes, barely paying attention to their own conversation. Koutarou knew he was a man on a mission, but he couldn’t remember what exactly that mission was, and this wall Jane was leaning against was pretty nice. The vodka and coke in his hand was suddenly no longer there, though, and he frowned down at his empty cup. “You want more to drink?” he asked Jane, who nodded wildly.

“Hell yeah,” she said, and moved away from the wall. She stumbled immediately, and Koutarou tried to hold her up, but then he was falling too - someone grabbed onto the back of his shirt and righted him, and he eventually managed to get Jane standing too. She was giggling, holding onto his arm.

“Bro!” Koutarou said, as soon as he saw Kuroo. “You saved me!”

“Hey,” Kuroo said. He was smiling, soft and easy, and Koutarou grinned back at him. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Koutarou said emphatically, drawing out the _o_. “I’m actually -”

“I don’t feel so good,” Jane said, and pitched forward to throw up on Kuroo’s shirt.

“What,” said Kuroo, looking down at his shirt.

“Dude,” said Koutarou.

“Uuuugh,” said Jane. “Camilla, I need Camilla.” Out of nowhere, a girl appeared and helped her up, sighing and leading her off to the bathroom.

“You look gross as hell,” Koutarou informed Kuroo. “And you smell.”

“Fuck off, I know,” Kuroo said, grimacing. “I’m going to wash this right now - come with me, you’re drunk off your ass.”

“I’m not drunk,” Koutarou said. To make sure he didn’t lose him, he put his finger through one of the belt loops on Kuroo’s jeans.

“Sure,” Kuroo said, and started walking, Koutarou following as steadily as he could.

The hallway was quiet, so quiet Koutarou could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He started humming, tugging rhythmically on Kuroo’s jeans in time with the tune. Kuroo laughed, pulling Koutarou’s hand away and holding it briefly before he let go. “You’re pretty far gone, huh,” he said.

“Nuh-uh,” Koutarou said, and stuck his tongue out. Kuroo’s hand had been warm around his, and the warmth stayed for a little while before it faded.

They entered the laundry room and Koutarou jumped to sit on a washing machine, swinging his legs and swaying. Kuroo stripped off his shirt, digging around in his pocket for change, and Koutarou looked at his chest, the trail of hair leading down from his navel. His mouth was dry - he should have had a beer, or vodka, or _something_ , didn’t he have something drinkable in his hand just a few minutes ago? He should have brought it.

Kuroo bent down to throw his shirt in the machine and Koutarou almost choked on his tongue as he tilted over to lie down across several machines. The new angle didn’t make Kuroo look any worse, and the vertigo made Koutarou’s head swim, so he sat back up.

“What are you so restless for?” Kuroo asked.

It was now or never. With great effort, Koutarou made sure he was only looking at Kuroo’s face. “Bro,” he said. “You’re not seeing anyone, right?”

Kuroo turned the washing machine on and turned back to him, resting against it and crossing his arms. “No,” he said. “Why?”

What a stupid question. “Why _not_?” Koutarou asked. “I mean, dude, you’re - you’re a catch, you know! You’re hot as hell and everything!”

“Thanks, bro,” Kuroo said, but Koutarou wasn’t done. This was _important_.

“Any dude would be lucky to have you! If there’s _anyone_ in your sights, seriously, you know I would wingman you in two seconds, right? You’re awesome! You deserve whoever you want, you know?”

Kuroo wasn’t smiling anymore.

“And I - I wanna help you! You could have your pick of anyone, probably!”

“Not anyone, clearly,” Kuroo said. “Come on, you’re drunk. You can sleep it off in my room, I’ll come back for the shirt.”

“Okay,” Koutarou said. Had he said that Kuroo should pick him? He must have. It was in every fiber of his being, _pick me pick me pick me pick me_ , but Kuroo’s hand on his shoulder as he led him outside and into the hallway was enough to ease the prickling feeling of uncertainty.

Kuroo didn’t say anything more on the way to his room. Koutarou’s head was swimming, full of fleeting dreams of the two of them together, and he was face down on the bed and snoring as soon as Kuroo unlocked his door, too out of it to hear Kuroo’s sigh and feel the hand running, just once, through his hair.

*

The only thing Koutarou knew when he woke up was that he had made a fool of himself. He didn’t remember much of the night, and all Kuroo would say was that someone threw up on him - that part Koutarou remembered - and then Koutarou had talked about how hot he was.

Koutarou laughed when Kuroo told him, even though his hands were clammy and his head was pounding. Kuroo didn’t say that Koutarou had asked him out, and he didn’t say that he had rejected him, but Koutarou wasn’t stupid - Kuroo would have brought it up again if he were interested.

“You promised to wingman me,” Kuroo said, even if he didn’t look entirely happy about it. That was just rude - Koutarou could be one hell of a wingman, probably, even when his heart wasn’t in it, and Kuroo should be honoured.

“Sounds like a good night,” Koutarou said, smacking his lips together to get rid of the stickiness of sleep.

Kuroo shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, not very sincerely, but Koutarou was too tired to push, and Kuroo had been thrown up on. It was understandable.

Maybe there was still hope, he told himself, because he was nothing if not an optimist, maybe he had just jumbled his words too much like he sometimes did when he was drunk, maybe Kuroo had misunderstood him -

The energy from that thought managed to get him up and out of Kuroo’s bed despite his headache, because he wanted to be home before the nausea set in, and if he looked at Kuroo for too long he would ask him questions he didn’t want answered - again, possibly. Besides, Koutarou’s mouth currently tasted like ass. He had to brush his teeth at least three times before he would put his mouth near anyone else’s.

*

The team practiced every day, so Koutarou saw it appear from one day to the next. A bruise high on Kuroo’s sternum, just low enough to be hidden by his t-shirt, that hadn’t been there on Wednesday.

“Hey, bro,” Koutarou said, yanking his own gym shirt down over his head. “What happened?”

“What?” Kuroo asked with his t-shirt halfway up his arms, head reappearing to see Koutarou gesture at his chest. “Uh,” he said, and only then did Koutarou see it was not a bruise caused by injury - it was a hickey, round and purple against Kuroo’s skin.

Koutarou wanted to pretend he’d never said anything. He swallowed, and it felt like his spit had turned into battery acid. He smiled. “Sorry, man,” he said. “What the hell, though, I thought you were gonna let me wingman you. You don’t trust me or something?”

Kuroo’s face, when Koutarou managed to look at it, didn’t tell him much. He was wearing that absent smirk that Koutarou saw through years ago, the one he knew didn’t mean anything, but he couldn’t tell what was going on underneath. “Sure,” he said.

“What?” said Koutarou.

“We can go out, test these wingman abilities you’ve been bragging about.”

“But -” Koutarou gestured again. “What about, you know …”

Kuroo shrugged. “It’s not a steady thing,” he said. “Besides, it’s not really any of your business, is it?”

Koutarou frowned. “I guess not,” he said.

“Saturday, then,” Kuroo said.

“Fine,” Koutarou said. At some point, he must have started deliberately wanting to hurt himself, because he said, “I’ll get you the best guy there.”

“Looking forward to it,” Kuroo said, and Koutarou went to slam some volleyballs as hard as he could until the helpless anger shaking through his body went away.

*

They were lucky to get a table at the bar, arriving just early enough to watch it get filled up in minutes. “Drinks first,” Koutarou said, and Kuroo nodded.

“You don’t want to seem desperate,” he said with a smirk, and Koutarou scowled.

“You’d be the desperate-looking one,” he said and turned away at Kuroo’s smug smile, heading for the bar.

He ordered two pints, bartender barely glancing at his fake id, and returned to the table, setting one down in front of Kuroo and immediately starting on his own.

“You in a rush, or something?” Kuroo asked. Koutarou set the glass down after drinking about a third, licking foam off his upper lip and shaking his head.

“Just thirsty,” he said. He needed to get over himself. He was here for Kuroo’s sake, not his own. Even though he wanted to bang his fists on the table and demand that Kuroo at least gave him a chance, that wasn’t how it worked. He’d told Kuroo he would find him some great guy, and he would, because Kuroo was the best. He deserved it and Koutarou - Koutarou just had to get over himself.

He drank the rest of his pint more slowly while they talked aimlessly about university, the team, their mutual friends. It was never awkward with Kuroo - ever since they’d first started hanging out, years ago, they’d always had stuff to talk about, stuff to laugh about. Koutarou thought Kuroo was one of the funniest people he’d ever met, and it didn’t have to be all that bad, for Kuroo to get a boyfriend.

Okay, that was a lie.

It would suck for Kuroo to get a boyfriend, but Koutarou should be grateful he got to see him so much. He _was_ grateful.

After one more drink, the bar was loud and teeming with people - ninety percent of which were guys, which Koutarou shouldn’t be surprised by, as Kuroo had said this was a fairly popular cruising spot. “Alright,” he said, leaning closer to Kuroo to make sure he heard him, “who’s hot?”

“Shouldn’t you be able to tell?” Kuroo asked him.

Koutarou shrugged. He found most people attractive in some way, and he didn’t really know Kuroo’s type. They’d talked about guys before, absently - Kuroo had figured out he was gay long before Koutarou met him, and Koutarou took the early high school revelation that he was pansexual without trouble - but never really with any specifics, which made a lot more sense in retrospect. “We’re here for you, not me,” he said.

Kuroo’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, you’re a lot more invested in me getting laid than you,” he said. “You know if there’s anything, you can tell me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Koutarou said. “Don’t worry about me! Seriously, though, point some guys out. I’m gonna charm the best one, just you wait.”

“Stop making this awkward,” Kuroo said, laughing. His cheeks were lightly flushed by the alcohol, although he didn’t seem any more than barely tipsy. “That guy by the counter, I guess? In the red shirt. He’s pretty hot.”

“Hmmmm,” Koutarou said, eyes seeking him out. Kuroo was right - he was classically handsome, but Koutarou fought hard not to label his attractiveness as generic. “Alright, time to shine!”

He got up, his chest warm from the liquid courage he’d needed to get here, and started making his way over while Kuroo shouted “Good luck!” to his back.

As soon as he reached the guy, Koutarou realised he had a problem. He’d never actually done this before, and while he talked a big game, the only real idea he had of wingmanning came from that one American sitcom he watched when he was bored.

He figured he’d talk Kuroo up, get the guy back to their table, and then he could leave. Stellar plan. He took a second to congratulate himself. “Hey,” he said to the guy.

The guy gave him a once-over. “Hey,” he said.

They made some conversation, Koutarou joking about the quality of the beer they served here and the guy giving a polite laugh in response, before Koutarou brought up Kuroo.

“So my friend’s sitting over there,” he said, and nodded towards Kuroo. “He’s a pretty great guy.”

“Oh yeah?” the guy said - Koutarou should probably have asked for his name, but it was too late now.

“Yeah,” Koutarou said with enthusiasm, and started telling an anecdote from a couple of years ago. He had so many memories of Kuroo being awesome, though, and it was hard to pick just one, so he had to start on a second one once he finished.

The guy let him keep talking with an amused smile for most of it. After the third story, he finally waved a hand, and Koutarou quieted down. “So,” he said, “are you asking me for a threesome with you and your boyfriend?”

“What, no, what,” Koutarou said.

The guy looked surprised, and drained his drink. “Then I don’t know what you’re going for, and I think you’re wasting my time.”

Feeling a little stunned, Koutarou returned to the table where Kuroo was still sitting, and he sat down with a heavy sigh. “Gay guys are so straight-forward, what the hell,” he said.

Kuroo raised his eyebrows. “Okay,” he said. “Most people wouldn’t call them straight. What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Koutarou said. “Just get the next round, yeah?”

Instead of teasing him about the failed attempt, Kuroo got up and went to the bar. Koutarou kept an eye out for just long enough to make sure he wasn’t going to talk to the guy, then he put his head in his hands and groaned. This was hopeless. He was way too obvious.

Luckily, Kuroo would soon return with alcohol - that would ease his sorrows. Alcohol had his back.

*

Alcohol did not have his back. Koutarou thought he should have learned this lesson by now, but no - Sunday brought just as painful a hangover as ever. He spent the majority of the day in bed, feeling sorry for himself. He vaguely remembered Kuroo talking to some other guys the night before, but he didn’t know if he went home with any of them, and he definitely didn’t want to know.

Koutarou felt miserable, even though his head had eventually stopped hurting, and he wanted to complain about everything in his life. He found his phone buried under his pillow, and called Akaashi.

“Akaashi,” he sniffed. “Everything is awful.”

He could hear Akaashi’s sigh clearly over the line. _"What’s wrong?”_

“I tried to set Kuroo up with a guy, but he thought I was asking for a threesome,” Koutarou said. “And I’m really hungover, and I don’t know what to do, why did you have to point it out, this is _terrible_ -”

Akaashi endured a few more minutes of Koutarou whining down the phone before he interrupted him. _“Do you want me to come over?”_

“Please,” Koutarou said, and Akaashi hung up on him, which Koutarou took to mean he would be coming over soon.

He put on sweatpants and changed his t-shirt so he wouldn’t smell too bad when Akaashi came over, then dozed a little while waiting. His dreams were weird and half-lucid - Kuroo featured heavily, although Koutarou didn’t always recognise him, disguised as a cat or his mom or a lamppost tilted sideways.

Soon, there was a knock on his door, and Akaashi stepped inside. “Your mom let me in,” he said.

Koutarou blinked and sat up. “Hey,” he said. Now that Akaashi was actually here, not just a vaguely disparaging voice in Koutarou’s ear, complaining about it all seemed a lot harder and stupider.

Akaashi stood by his desk chair, looking over at him. “You look pretty bad,” he observed.

Koutarou tried to grin. “I’m fine, really,” he said.

“Make that very bad,” Akaashi said, and sat down. “What on Earth made you think trying to set Kuroo up with someone else was a good idea?”

Koutarou sighed loudly and fell backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just want him to be happy,” he said. “That’s all.”

There was a brief pause, before Akaashi said, “I know. Have you told him?”

“I think so,” Koutarou mumbled. “I don’t think it went well. He has other - guys. It’s not surprising.”

Akaashi went silent again, before Koutarou felt a sudden kick to his shin. He sat up to see Akaashi frowning down at him. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “That’s not how it works, your worth isn’t determined by anyone’s romantic interest in you. Have you thought about seeing someone else? Something casual?”

“Uhm,” Koutarou said. There was something very captain-like about Akaashi in that moment, something he’d seen glimpses of last year, but which had clearly come to fruition while he’d been away. He was sad he’d missed it. “Not really.”

“Just try and get your mind off of it,” Akaashi said. “I know how you wallow.”

Koutarou smiled at him. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t come if I didn’t want to,” Akaashi said. Koutarou was surprised he didn’t look constipated by the amount of affection he was showing. He loved Akaashi, but he wasn’t exactly a sentimental guy.

“I know,” Koutarou said. “Thanks.”

Akaashi gave him a small smile.

“Now tell me everything that’s happened at Fukurodani since last time,” Koutarou demanded, and Akaashi sat back down to start explaining.

*

_Get some distance, at least,_  Akaashi had said as a parting word of advice. _Don’t hang out with Kuroo every day_. Apparently this was a tried-and-true recipe for getting over unrequited love, but Koutarou didn’t really know. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this for anyone. He didn’t know why he felt like this for Kuroo either, and why now, when they’d known each other for so long. It felt like Kuroo had always been there, even though they’d gone to different schools and had only known each other for a handful of years. Kuroo was reliable in a way Koutarou couldn’t remember anyone else ever being, and he was funny, too, so different from Koutarou in his approaches, yet eerily similar in his results.

And Akaashi said he had to take a break from all that. Koutarou didn’t know if he could.

He called up every other person on his phone, cramming his week full of plans so that he would have excuses if Kuroo asked to hang out - Akaashi agreed to see him, and Jane, and some other people from the team.

He missed Kuroo already.

"Cheer up," Jane told him on Friday, refilling his glass of water. They'd eaten a pasta dish she said reminded her of home, and were now sitting around while Koutarou spilled his woes. "It's not so bad, come on."

"It sucks," he whined, pouting behind his glass.

"And you're sure he's not into you?" she asked, drinking from her own glass.

"Pretty much," Koutarou said, and let out a wordless noise of frustration. "Enough about my problems, though, how's LGBT Soc going?"

"Nobody warned me being trans officer would be so much work," she sighed. "I'm only here for a year, I want to see as much of the country as I can, but I'm stuck behind a desk doing paperwork."

Koutarou laughed. "That's what you get," he said. "Homework's bad enough, I don't know why you'd want additional work."

"You're on the volleyball team," Jane countered.

"That's different," he said stubbornly, and she laughed.

They kept talking, switching water for some odd vegan juice Jane had brought from home, insisting that Koutarou try it.

"The point is -" Koutarou started as he got more and more agitated, waving his now empty glass around. "The point is - what's the point?"

"Something about Kuroo," Jane said, swirling the last of her juice mournfully.

"Kuroo," Koutarou sighed, and collapsed backward, staring at the ceiling. Jane laughed.

"Your friend said to get it out of your system, right?" she asked, throwing back her juice and standing up.

"Yeah," Koutarou sighed again towards the lights that seemed to be moving a little. He blinked.

"Then let's fuck," she said, and Koutarou's head snapped down. "You're safe, I don't want a relationship, you need to get something else on your mind. What do you say?"

"I," he started, before cutting himself off. There was a heat that felt constant under his skin these days, reigniting whenever he let his thoughts wander, and he itched to get it out - a sense of want stretched thick as a blanket over him. "Okay," he said.

She smiled and offered him her hand to help pull him up.

In the bedroom, she said, "You remember I'm trans, right," and in the darkness she looked suddenly vulnerable, the brazen offer almost unimaginable.

"Yeah," Koutarou said, "just, uh, show me what you want."

Jane laughed, putting a cool hand on his flushed cheek. "I was right. You're way too earnest for me," she said, and kissed him.

*

In the morning, they had breakfast together, Jane gracefully offering breakfast once Koutarou stumbled out of bed. Seeing her in the morning light, he'd thought - maybe - but even though he didn't regret it, he still didn't feel anything. He didn't want to hold her hand, or look at her under the stars, or do any of that sappy shit his own imagination kept teasing him with. In those dreams, there was still an omnipresent bedhead and a stupid, charming grin.

All the things Akaashi had to be wrong about, Koutarou thought glumly on the way home, and it had to be this.

**To: Kuroo THE MAN Tetsurou**

_< study 2gthr tmrw??????_

**From: Kuroo THE MAN Tetsurou**

_> Sure_

Koutarou put his phone back in his pocket, a determined frown on his face. If he wasn't getting over this, there was only one thing to do - pretend, as hard as he could, that there was nothing wrong at all.

*

“My Logistics of Education class is killing me,” Koutarou said with a sigh, dumping his books next to Kuroo on the study table.

“Yeah?” Kuroo said absently, his head already buried in one of his biology books.

“Yeah, the lecturer’s turned into a demon,” Koutarou said. “She was fine at the beginning of the year! Just because we forgot about _one_ assignment that she didn’t even mention -” He cut off once he realised Kuroo wasn’t listening. His eyes were moving intently over the page, shoulders hunched.

“Mhm,” Kuroo said.

Koutarou frowned. He suddenly wanted to rip the book out of Kuroo’s hands and demand that they study like they used to, with a steady stream of chatter to help Koutarou focus. Instead, he opened his own book with more force than necessary, but Kuroo didn’t react to that either.

Koutarou could hear other people’s half-whispered conversations in the study hall, but at their table, there were practically crickets chirping.

“I’m going to read,” Koutarou said slowly. Kuroo nodded into his book.

This was still better than not seeing him at all, Koutarou told himself, and tried to turn his attention to the words on the page.

After 20 minutes of dead-boring pedagogy theory, he gave up and slammed his book shut. Kuroo jumped and frowned at him. “Lunch break,” Koutarou declared.

“Has it even been half an hour?” Kuroo asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Koutarou said. He went to a neighboring table and asked them to look over his and Kuroo’s stuff for ten minutes while they went to the cafe.

As they started walking, Koutarou said, “I saw Akaashi again last week.” He glanced over at Kuroo. At least now he seemed marginally more interested, eyes meeting Koutarou’s before he looked away. “Fukurodani lost at the inter-highs.”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows. “Did they?” he said, opening the door to the library cafe. Koutarou followed him inside.

“Yeah, stayed in long enough to qualify, though. Akaashi’s staying on for the spring highs, so they’ll win that one!”

“Win,” Kuroo scoffed. “Lev and Kenma are better than ever.”

“Better still doesn’t mean _good_ ,” Koutarou said as they sat down at a table.

Kuroo shot him a dirty look, and Koutarou grinned at the server, ordering today’s special.

“In all seriousness, Karasuno has it this year, too,” Kuroo said. “Fukurodani doesn’t stand a chance without you.”

“Karasuno,” Koutarou repeated with a grimace. He didn’t think about that match very often anymore, but it still made him irritated.

“Yeah,” Kuroo said firmly, but he bumped his ankle against Koutarou’s in apology.

The conversation stayed on their former teams, the ten minutes Koutarou had allotted them passing quickly. Kuroo was still odd sometimes, zoning out and frowning, but Koutarou didn’t mind. He didn’t even mind when Kuroo started packing up only an hour after they had returned to their books, saying he had agreed to meet someone.

“Who?” Koutarou asked.

“You don’t know him,” Kuroo said, shrugging on his jacket.

No, Koutarou totally didn’t mind at all.

*

The sun was bright when his child psychology class let out, and Koutarou squinted across campus, spotting a familiar figure in the distance. “Hey, I have to run,” he told his classmate, who nodded and waved a farewell, then Koutarou set off, stopping so abruptly in front of Kuroo that he almost toppled into him. “Hi!” he said brightly.

Kuroo looked surprised, his visible eyebrow high on his face, before he gave him a small smile. “Hey,” he said.

“Your class just let out?” Koutarou asked, and Kuroo nodded.

“I’m actually headed to my next one,” he said, gesturing.

“Oh, alright,” Koutarou said. “That’s cool. Hey, are you free this weekend?”

“I think I’m busy,” Kuroo said. “Sorry.”

“No problem! What are you doing?”

Kuroo shrugged. “Just seeing someone.”

“Oh,” Koutarou said again. He blinked repeatedly, the sun getting in his eyes. “Next week sometime, how about that?”

“Sure. I’ll see you at practice, anyway,” Kuroo said, and gave his arm a brief squeeze in goodbye, walking off before Koutarou had the chance to reply.

*

“I think he broke up with his boyfriend,” Koutarou said a few weeks later, phone balanced precariously between chin and shoulder while he opened cupboards. “Aha!” He triumphantly pulled out a bag of rice.

On the other end of the line, Akaashi sighed. _“Did he tell you? I didn’t know he had a boyfriend at all.”_

“He never had time to hang out, or he had to head somewhere,” Koutarou explained, pouring the rice into a cooker, “but I messaged him last night, and he said he wasn’t busy.”

_“Right,”_ Akaashi said, sounding doubtful. There was a moment of silence, Koutarou preoccupied with turning the cooker on, before he continued. _“How are you feeling?”_

“I’m -” Koutarou started, then paused, trying to think of what to say. His phone slid out of his hand and clattered to the ground, making him wince. He picked it back up, checking it for cracks before bringing it to his ear. “Sorry, dropped my phone. I’m fine. You know -” he lowered his voice - “it’s kinda miserable and sometimes everything is awful, but other than that I’m fine.”

_“Bokuto-san,”_ Akaashi said heavily, and Koutarou grimaced.

“There’s nothing I can do ‘cept make things like before, right?” he asked quietly, continuing before Akaashi had the chance to reply. “We’re going to a party on Saturday.”

_“Have fun.”_

“We will,” Koutarou said firmly, sitting down at the kitchen table and absently flipping the pages of the newspapers lying there. “What about you, how’s Fukurodani? Anyone on the horizon? I remember that girl in your class who waited for you that one time -”

_“There’s no one,”_ Akaashi said, then quickly, in a rush of breath: _“I think I’m aromantic.”_

Koutarou blinked, the newspaper fluttering from his fingers. “What does that mean?”

_“It means I’m not interested in people,”_ Akaashi said. There was a faint tremble to his voice, or it could just be static. _“Romantically.”_

“Oh,” Koutarou said. “Cool? Oh man, I’m sorry I’ve been like - telling you all my romantic shit, that’s not cool of me, do you wanna hear about all that stuff even if you’re not -”

_“Bokuto-san, it’s fine,”_ Akaashi said, letting out an exhale. _“I don’t mind.”_

“Still, douchebag move on my part!”

Akaashi went quiet, and when he spoke again his voice was stronger, closer to its usual confidence. _“Thank you.”_

“For what?”

_“I haven’t told anyone else.”_

“That’s pretty cool,” Koutarou said. “I wish I had some important secret to share with you now.”

_“Don’t worry, I think I know all of them,”_ Akaashi said with a huff. Koutarou grinned, waving a hand through the steam coming off the rice cooker and rubbing his damp fingers together.

“That’s because we’re friends,” he stated.

_“Yes, captain,”_ Akaashi said, amused.

Koutarou’s laughter had an embarrassed tinge to it. “Not your captain anymore,” he said. “Not captain of anything at the moment.”

Akaashi was quiet. When he spoke, his voice was solid, firm without being unkind. _“You make good decisions, Bokuto-san,”_ he said. _“No matter what, I value your friendship.”_ Then he hung up, before Koutarou could think of a sufficiently sappy response.

Koutarou put his phone down, eyebrows still raised high and a disbelieving half-smile on his lips, before he shook his head and went to check on the rice.

*

The shirt he was wearing felt tighter than usual - he kept tugging to adjust it, knocking again on Kuroo’s door while he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He’d messaged Kuroo on the way to tell him he was bringing booze, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the asshole had fallen asleep -

The door opened. “Hey,” Kuroo said. His hair was as close to orderly as it had ever been, shining wet with wax in the light, and Koutarou gaped at it. “Uh, come in,” he continued, turning around so Koutarou could enter. He couldn’t help but notice the way Kuroo’s black shirt showed the lines of muscle in his back, his dark jeans fitting his firm ass and long legs - Koutarou’s grip on the heavy plastic bag turned sweaty and he hurried inside, eager to drink.

“I brought beer and vodka,” he said once he was seated safely on Kuroo’s couch - Kuroo sat down as well, body turned towards Koutarou.

“Man, vodka,” he said, pulling a face. “Beer first, at least. We need to be able to get there.”

“I can handle my booze,” Koutarou protested, taking two bottles out of the bag by his feet, opening them with his keychain. He handed one to Kuroo, who smirked and gave him a brief once-over before taking his first sip.

“I know you can,” he said, mouth still so close to the bottle it almost caught on his lips. “But there’s a lot of stairs, and we want to have a good time.”

“Sure, alright,” Koutarou said, taking a long pull of his own beer. “You feeling good?”

Kuroo paused, then nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Why?”

Koutarou shrugged. “You broke up with that guy, right?”

“Oikawa?” Kuroo said, laughing a little. “We weren’t together.”

Koutarou gave him a skeptical look. “So he’s not why you’ve been down?”

“I’ve not been down,” Kuroo said, taking another large sip of his beer. “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, you seemed kinda… despondent or something,” Koutarou said. “When we were texting. And you have time to hang out now, and stuff.”

“I don’t have to be down just because I want to see you,” Kuroo said, a little harshly, and Koutarou started.

“I know that, asshole,” he said, kicking him in the shin, and Kuroo laughed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.”

“‘S fine,” Koutarou said. “I’ve missed having you around, you know.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows twitched together and he looked pained for a moment before he smiled at him. “Me too,” he said. “Been kinda neglecting you, huh?”

Koutarou swallowed his _yes_ , smiling back instead. “Doesn’t matter. We’re gonna have an awesome time tonight!”

Kuroo nodded and leaned over to clink their bottles together, bringing his to his lips and downing it.

*

They ended up climbing the stairs without much problem - Koutarou could feel the buzz already fading, and he commented on it, suggesting shots as soon as they got in. Kuroo agreed, commenting that they’d forgotten to bring glasses as he pushed the door to the dorm room open.

“We’ll make do,” Koutarou said, following him into the room.

They weren't the last to arrive, but there was already a good crowd going - something up-beat was playing from a cellphone in a cup, and there were people standing around laughing, various cups and bottles in hand.

"You know the host, right?" Koutarou asked Kuroo, who nodded, eyes already searching the crowd.

"I'll go say hi, see if I can find some glasses," he replied, and disappeared off in the direction of the kitchen. Koutarou gave him a little wave and joined the group standing closest to the door, vaguely familiar faces from previous parties in Kuroo's dorm house. He talked volleyball and education with most of them, cracking jokes and getting superficial updates on the others' lecturers, before Kuroo returned. "No glasses in sight," he said, clapping Koutarou on the shoulder. "You have any ideas?"

Koutarou made a show of opening the vodka bottle, then took a swig, grimacing as he handed it over to Kuroo. "That's my idea," he said, and Kuroo took the bottle with a faint laugh.

"At least the vodka's a sanitizer, who knows where you've been putting your mouth," he said. Koutarou gasped, mock offended.

"That should be my line," he said, "I haven't gotten any in ages."

Kuroo hummed, eyes dancing over the rim of the bottle, and Koutarou laughed, shoving at his shoulder. He caught sight of Jane behind him, and gestured for her to come over, exclaiming loudly.

"Koutarou!" she said with a smile as she saw him, walking closer to him and Kuroo. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good," Koutarou said. "Oh, yeah - Kuroo, meet Jane. Jane was the one who threw up on you, remember that?"

"Better than you do," Kuroo said, while Jane winced and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Kuroo said. "Didn't have to go very far to do laundry, after all."

"Oh, you live in this building, right? Koutarou mentioned it," Jane said, patting Koutarou on the arm.

"Mmhm," Kuroo said. There was an awkward silence while Koutarou looked between them, shifting his weight.

"More shots!" he said finally, and Kuroo and Jane both laughed. She was drinking something neon-colored in a glass bottle. Fancy, Koutarou thought. It probably tasted amazing. If he'd gotten his shit together, he would've wanted to lick the blue off her lips, but he'd rather suck on Kuroo's tongue even though it tasted like vodka and would probably be disgusting - and that reminder drove him to take another gulp of the vodka bottle, closing his eyes at the burn.

"That's disgusting," Jane said with a laugh, and Koutarou shrugged.

"Needs must," he said. "Are there any drinking games or anything?"

"Think someone's playing King's Cup over there," Kuroo said, gesturing to a group crouching around a table.

"Perfect," Koutarou said.

*

King's Cup turned into Truth or Dare, which turned into Spin the Bottle - some hours later found Kuroo and Koutarou next to each other on the floor, laughing into each other's shoulders at some piss-poor excuse for a dick joke one of the other guys had told. The circle wasn't very big, the party having either split off or gone home, and Jane had gone out with the rest of the internationals, talking about getting the most out of Tokyo's nightlife while she could. Koutarou had whined and tugged at her when she left, but Kuroo had roped him back into playing soon after.

"I thought I left this behind in high school," Mizoguchi sighed as he spun the bottle, waiting for it to point someone out.

"High school never ends," Akera, a regular on the football team, said, and the two girls sitting next to her laughed.

"One can dream," Kuroo said, sitting up a little straighter so he could participate. Koutarou was still leaning on him, laughing quietly.

The bottle finally stopped spinning, pointing at Akera, and Mizoguchi grinned as he leaned across the circle to kiss her, taking her face in his hands. Akera's friends applauded as the kiss went on - when they separated, she was smiling and Mizoguchi was pulling a face, settling back.

"Too much garlic," he said, and she huffed, smile disappearing a little as the rest of the circle laughed. "Still, would kiss again."

"Keep it in your pants," Touyama hollered.

"Yeah, yeah," Mizoguchi said, waving a hand, and Akera spun the bottle.

It stopped at Kuroo, who shook himself loose and pushed Koutarou away - Koutarou swayed a little where he sat, until he finally found his balance. Kuroo leaned forward with a sleazy grin, getting up on his knees to reach her.

"Apparently I have garlic breath," she warned, and he shrugged, kissing her instead of replying.

Koutarou's eyes were glued to where their lips met - he'd always imagined Kuroo to be a firm kisser, but he seemed soft when kissing Akera, and they both kept it chaste. He leaned back, giving her a wink, and she smacked her lips, considering.

"Better," she said, and Mizoguchi's friend slapped him on the back, telling him to drink like a man even if he couldn't kiss like one.

"It's your turn," Koutarou told Kuroo, tugging at his sleeve. He was caught between not wanting to see Kuroo kiss anyone else ever again, and wishing for it fiercely - at least now he knew his imagination could be more accurate, even though that was a bad idea too.

But he was too drunk to give a shit about bad ideas.

"I know," Kuroo said, drunk enough to be slow, and spun the bottle halfheartedly. It spun on the floor once, twice, before slowing down - for a second Koutarou thought it was going to stop on Kuroo, and that he'd have to do it again, but it went just a little further, pointing at Koutarou's knee. "That's a re-do," Kuroo said immediately.

"What? It's me!" Koutarou said.

"Yeah, no re-dos, you have to do it," Mizoguchi said firmly.

"No re-dos, no re-dos," his friend chanted, and Kuroo sighed.

"Fine." He turned so he was facing Koutarou, who was still blinking slowly, confused. "You ready?"

"I was born ready," Koutarou said, even though he felt like he was rapidly losing control of the situation. Kuroo huffed and yanked him close, pressing his lips to his roughly. They were chapped and warm and dry, and Koutarou made a noise of surprise before he pressed back. This was his only chance, he realised suddenly, and he could blame it all on the game - he ran his tongue lazily over Kuroo's bottom lip, and after a moment of hesitation Kuroo opened his mouth, kissing him back.

He was hyper aware of Kuroo's tongue in his mouth, sliding against his own - his head felt hazy, everything but the kiss falling away in a drunken mist. Kuroo did taste like vodka, but so did Koutarou, and it wasn't as unpleasant as he'd thought it would be.

He didn't know when he'd closed his eyes, but they had fallen shut, and he was swaying closer to Kuroo, almost in danger of falling on top of him.

Finally, Kuroo leaned away again, and Koutarou opened his eyes, taking in a deep breath. His face felt warm, and he thought Kuroo was blushing too, red high on his cheekbones. When Koutarou remained quiet, Kuroo pushed at him, coughing a little.

"It's your turn."

"Oh, right," Koutarou said, and shook his head - he turned back to spin the bottle, feeling vaguely nauseated as he watched it go round and round.

" _That's_ how you kiss," Akera was telling Mizoguchi, pointing at them, and Koutarou's blush spread up over his ears. He chanced a look at Kuroo, who turned away as soon as he caught his gaze, neck still flushed. They were still sitting close - too close and not close enough, close enough to feel Kuroo's heat against his leg but not close enough to feel Kuroo against him, and Koutarou shifted minutely closer so their thighs pressed together. Kuroo's head turned quickly, looking at Koutarou.

"Are we out of vodka?" Koutarou said when Kuroo didn't look away.

"Think so." Kuroo raised the empty bottle of Smirnoff, and Koutarou pouted.

He was pulled back into the game momentarily when the bottle finally stopped, on one of Akera's friends - he leaned forward to peck her on autopilot, lips soft against his, and then he stood up.

"Alcohol run?" he said, holding out a hand to Kuroo, feeling brave and bold and stupid all at the same time.

Kuroo looked up at him, then helped himself up, palm warm against Koutarou's. "Sure, let's go. We'll be back," he told the circle.

"Sure," Akera said, and Mizoguchi said, "Have fun," while his friend whistled - but Kuroo wasn't letting go of Koutarou's hand, so they could say whatever they wanted.

The hallway was quiet, and Koutarou was a little unsteady on his feet. Walking down hallways drunk always reminded him of that scene in Inception - he told Kuroo, and got a laugh in response.

"That guy was hot," Kuroo said.

"I'm hot," Koutarou said, and Kuroo just laughed again, not replying.

They went down the stairs, both holding tightly onto the rail, and then Kuroo was unlocking his door, stepping into his own apartment. "I don't actually have any alcohol -" he started, but before he got the sentence out Koutarou shut him up, kissing him fiercely. Kuroo got with the program fast, wrapping his arms around Koutarou's waist and bringing him closer, the heat of his body a solid line against Koutarou's.

Now he kissed more like Koutarou had expected him to, head moving forward to nudge their faces together insistently, breath fanning out over Koutarou's face before he bent down and pressed their lips together with firm precision. His tongue darted out to lick, wet and warm and new against Koutarou's lips, and he parted them in surprise - Kuroo didn't even pause, licking inside Koutarou's mouth. Koutarou sucked on his tongue and Kuroo moaned, loud and sudden. The sound went straight to Koutarou's cock, and he tightened his grip on Kuroo's arms, projecting his arousal as well as he could by pressing against Kuroo, tongue sliding against his.

"Okay," Kuroo said roughly when he broke away, thumbs drawing lines just over the line of Koutarou's waistband. "Bedroom?"

"Hell yeah," Koutarou said and kissed him again, teasing at his bottom lip. He was vaguely aware of Kuroo moving away, and him following after - he felt intoxicated by the smell of him, the feel of him under his palms, and Kuroo's own hands pushing his shirt up and gripping Koutarou's lower back had him groaning in encouragement.

Kuroo's knees hit the back of his bed and he fell, Koutarou sprawled on top of him - he sat up with a huff, his head pounding, looking down to see Kuroo grinning up at him. "Fuck off," Koutarou muttered and leaned down to kiss him, his palm sliding down Kuroo's chest and over his abs.

Kuroo sat up too, putting his hands on Koutarou’s ass and pulling him firmly into his lap. “This is a really bad idea,” he breathed into Koutarou’s neck, leaving a biting kiss on his skin.

“Nah,” Koutarou got out, rubbing down against Kuroo’s crotch and feeling him hot and hard under him, “We don’t have bad ideas.” He let out a moan at the feeling of Kuroo’s teeth against his throat, and fisted a hand in his hair to drag his head up, pressing their swollen lips together. His heart was racing and his head was cloudy, but he felt so full of want he thought he would burst with it, and his hips got more insistent against Kuroo’s.

Kuroo laughed lowly. “Let me jerk you off, then,” he said against his lips, and Koutarou broke away to swear, long and drawn out.

“Yeah,” he said. “Fuck, yeah, if that’s what you - yeah.”

“I do,” Kuroo said, rubbing a hand across Koutarou’s stomach before he palmed him through his jeans. Koutarou arched a little and groaned, the pressure a sudden relief that he automatically sought out.

“You’re so loud,” Kuroo said, almost gleefully.

“I can be louder,” Koutarou said. “If you would stop fucking teasing - ha _ah_ , Kuroo, shit -”

Kuroo grinned, his self-satisfaction so thick it was palpable. His hand was in Koutarou’s unzipped jeans, dry fingers wrapped around his cock. He jacked him loosely, pushing Koutarou’s underwear down under his balls with his other hand. Koutarou wanted to take his pants off, but standing up seemed like a tremendous task right now, so instead he stared down at Kuroo, taking in the way his eyelashes fell against his cheeks, his slack mouth, the heavy breaths against Koutarou’s collarbone. And then there was his hand, pulling at Koutarou’s cock and spreading his precome to make the grip slick and easy, speeding up a little. Koutarou threw his head back to moan again, and Kuroo laughed a little.

“Shut - _up_ ,” Koutarou panted. He wanted to give Kuroo the fuck of his life, wanted to spread him out and take him apart, but right now all he could do was shudder in his lap, world zeroing down to just the two of them, to Kuroo’s hand on his cock, his mouth on his throat. “Wait, wait, hold on.”

Kuroo took his hand away, and Koutarou let out a small, sad sound at it before he remembered what he was going to do. He took grip of his own shirt and pulled it over his head, struggling when it bunched around his forearms. Kuroo helped him, pulling the shirt away completely, and Koutarou gestured.

“Now you,” he said, and Kuroo raised an eyebrow before he smirked, unbuttoning his shirt. Koutarou’s eyes followed his fingers down, biting at his lip as more skin was revealed, his own hands eager to touch and grope. “Told you we only had good ideas.”

Kuroo hummed in agreement, then he wrapped his hand around him again, firmer this time, and Koutarou’s reply was lost in a sharp inhale of breath, his head coming down to rest on Kuroo’s shoulder and watch his hand move.

It felt so fucking good, like the weeks and months and years of tension were all culminating into this one moment, and he was talking, he knew he was talking, a rushed, broken speech about wanting, and how _fucking_ good it felt, how hot Kuroo was, and how good tonight had been, how much he’d missed him -

He put his lips against Kuroo’s skin to make himself shut up, and instead he tried to listen to Kuroo’s loud breathing, the sound of skin on skin as he jerked him, the feeling of Kuroo shifting under him. Koutarou ground down a little and Kuroo sighed, hips stuttering up against him, rocking more obviously now.

“Do you wanna fuck me,” Koutarou whispered, and Kuroo nodded, looking almost pained with it.

“Yeah,” he said, thumb skidding over the head of Koutarou’s cock and making him moan. “I wanna do a lot of things to you.”

“Fuck,” Koutarou said with feeling, arms gripping Kuroo’s shoulders for balance as he raised his hips and fucked into his hand, helping him speed up the pace, “that’s really hot.”

“Tell me about it,” Kuroo said, and Koutarou laughed, but the sound of it stuck in his throat and turned into a long groan instead when Kuroo pulled his foreskin back and ran his thumb over the slit again, sliding down the underside of his shaft.

“I’m close,” he forced out, panting against Kuroo’s skin, and Kuroo jerked him faster, his other hand gripping Koutarou’s ass and pulling him down against the pressure of his own cock straining against his jeans. “Fuck, Tetsu, come on, come on, I want - you have no idea how much I fucking - come _on_ , come -”

His orgasm shook through him, white noise ringing in his ears, and he slumped against Kuroo with a shaky sigh, head buried in the crook of his neck. His heart was still beating fast, his entire body tingling, and when he calmed down a little he could feel Kuroo still moving under him.

“Shit,” he said slowly.

“Yeah,” Kuroo said tightly, and Koutarou lifted his head to look at him, admiring the sweat dotting his hairline. “Are you gonna help me out?”

“Alright,” Koutarou sighed, pushing himself back into a sitting position and rocking down onto Kuroo. He kissed him, and could taste the frustration on this tongue. Now that he felt heavy and sated, Kuroo’s energy was almost funny, but it didn’t take him long to get back on track, the kiss turning deep and hard.

Kuroo rutted against him, hips pushing up insistently, and Koutarou stroked at his chest with some kind of aimless wonder. He separated them and bent down again to suck a mark into the skin over Kuroo’s jugular. Kuroo let out a small gasp, and Koutarou did it again, teasing at the skin with his teeth. Kuroo’s long sigh seemed quiet in comparison to the feeling of his body shivering apart under Koutarou, and Koutarou jerked his head back to watch him come, Kuroo’s eyes clenching shut and his brows knitting together before his entire body relaxed. He fell back against the bed, and only now did Koutarou notice his own come on Kuroo’s stomach - he scratched at his own and found some there too, shrugging as he wiped it on his jeans. He lay down next to Kuroo, resting his head on an out-stretched arm.

“Mmm,” Kuroo said finally, drawing it out. His eyes were closed. “I came in my pants.”

“So you did,” Koutarou said, eyes taking in his serene profile. “Kinda embarrassing.”

Kuroo hummed again. “I don’t care,” he said. “I’m tired now. Let’s go to sleep.”

“Alright,” Koutarou said, and flopped around on the bed until he could hand Kuroo a pillow. With a quiet thanks, Kuroo stuffed it under his head, and Koutarou made himself comfortable next to him, slinging an arm over Kuroo’s chest.

They were lying on top of the covers, both still in their pants, but getting up was too much effort now, and the alcohol and the orgasm both left Koutarou feeling more than warm enough to sleep.

His last thought before closing his eyes was that he had to convince Kuroo to let him do this again - he’d tasted this now, had him under his hands and mouth, and he wasn’t letting go of that any time soon.

*

For half a second, when Koutarou woke up, everything seemed fine. He opened his eyes with a groan, sticky from sleep, and found the bed empty, no Kuroo in sight. He shot up, which made his head and all the rest of him ache, and decided immediately to lie back down until the worst was over.

He remembered last night, even though the details were blurry and hard to grasp. He remembered looking down at Kuroo's face, dark eyelashes against cheekbones, and he remembered coming, sinking down against Kuroo, bare chest against bare chest. Most of all, he remembered deciding to stay. He couldn't move right now, head pounding too badly and everything from his shoulders to his knees aching, but he would've stayed none the less. He was going to see Kuroo, and he was going to tell him.

While sober.

The thought was a little scary. Koutarou curled up on his side, but the sore side of his neck ached against the pillow, and he really had to pee. He huffed and sat back up, more slowly this time, and carefully put his feet on the floor to stand up.

Standing up went better, and he stayed on his feet the entire way to the bathroom. The nausea hadn't set in, but he figured it was a matter of time. While peeing, he scratched at his stomach, the irritating flakes of dried come on it - gross.

He ended up taking a shower, stealing copious amounts of Kuroo's soap.

There was still no sign of Kuroo, and Koutarou frowned. He got dressed, grabbing one of Kuroo's shirts from his drawer and putting his own jeans back on. Kuroo's shirt was a little tight, and a little too long, but he couldn't find his own from where he had discarded it last night.

Kuroo's apartment was infinitely less interesting without him. Koutarou ambled into the kitchen and looked in the fridge, which was as bare as he'd ever seen it - some pickles and a beer were the only things in it, and neither was particularly appetizing. He filled a glass of water and sat down at the kitchen table, drumming his hand on the table while he waited.

His phone was dead, which meant he couldn't even text anyone. He wanted to tell Akaashi what happened, and Jane, but that would have to wait until after he'd talked to Kuroo.

If he ever showed up, that was.

Finally, there was a rustle of keys from the front door and Kuroo entered, two heavy bags of groceries in his hands. He stopped as soon as he caught sight of Koutarou, eyebrows rising in surprise. Kuroo still looked hungover, hair matted against his scalp and dark bruises Koutarou knew were his fault all along his neck and jaw, with circles under his wide eyes. "You're still here," he said, then turned around and put his groceries on the bench.

"Yeah," Koutarou said, looking at the line of his back. "You didn't even feed me."

Kuroo snorted. "I'll feed you now," he said. "Coffee?"

"Sure," Koutarou agreed, and Kuroo flipped the water kettle on, the click loud in the silence between them.

"I'm making rice and miso soup, if that's okay."

"Sounds good," Koutarou said again, wary of this strangely polite Kuroo. Kuroo nodded and grabbed a packet of powder, ripping it open. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Kuroo said. "How are you?"

"Good," Koutarou said. "Not as hung over as I was expecting. I took a shower, by the way."

"That's fine," Kuroo said. He still hadn't turned around, cutting strings of wakame and tossing it into the pot, making Koutarou shiver as his knife scraped against the chopping board.

In no time at all, the soup was boiling and the rice was cooking, and Kuroo didn't have any other reason not to turn around. Koutarou tugged at the hem of his shirt, looking at the tension in Kuroo's shoulders, the way his hands were fisting on the counter. He opened his mouth.

"I can't do this anymore," Kuroo said, at the same time that Koutarou blurted,

"I want to do this more."

Kuroo turned around. "What was that?"

"No, no, hold up, you go first," Koutarou said. "What do you mean, you can't?"

Kuroo crossed his arms, looking defensive and awkward. "I just can't," he said.

"No, come on," Koutarou said. "Give me an explanation, I'm demanding one."

"I don't have to explain myself," Kuroo said.

"Yeah, you do," Koutarou said. "You can't say something like that - and I still don't know what that _means_ \- and not explain!"

Kuroo sighed, bringing one hand up to scrub through his hair, making it stand up. "It's not working out for me," he said finally.

"Oh," Koutarou said, a little quieter.

"Fuck off, don't look at me like that," Kuroo said angrily. "I'm sorry I can't be your booty call, or whatever, but don't take the damn pity route."

"I - what? I'm not asking for your pity!" Koutarou replied, getting angry too. "I'm allowed to be bummed out because the guy I like doesn't like me back, so fuck off!"

Kuroo paused, then a myriad of emotions crossed his face. "What," he said lowly. "You like me?"

Koutarou leaned back in his chair, bringing his empty water glass to his mouth and pretending to drink from it. "I told you last night," he said when he placed it back on the table, still not meeting Kuroo's eyes. "I'm into you. So it sucks that you're not."

"I am," Kuroo said. "Into you, I mean."

Koutarou could swear his heart stopped for a second, and then his wide eyes were snapping to Kuroo's face. "But you just said -"

"Listen," Kuroo said, shifting awkwardly against the edge of the counter. "I just didn't want to have you that close and then not - have you, I guess."

Koutarou's cheeks were aching, and he only belatedly realized it was because he was smiling, grin wide. "You like me," he said.

Kuroo shrugged, still looking a little uncomfortable. "Yeah."

"And I like you," Koutarou said, and Kuroo started at that, trying to hide his small, secret smile.

"Yeah," he said again. "Seems that way."

Koutarou stood up in a flash, crowding Kuroo against the counter. "You _like_ me," he said again, delighted, hands resting on Kuroo's hips.

"Will you stop saying that," Kuroo said, but he was laughing a little, and Koutarou leaned forward and kissed him, keeping their lips pressed together for a moment before he pulled back.

"Hey," he said. "Remember that time we were in the laundry room?"

"Yeah," Kuroo said after a pause.

"Did I confess to you, back then?"

Kuroo shook his head.

"I was going to," Koutarou said, and Kuroo frowned for a second before he started laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it.

“Fucking hell, Kou,” he said into his shoulder. “I would’ve said yes.”

Koutarou smiled into his hair. “Cool,” he said.

“Not cool,” Kuroo said. “That’s months ago, we could’ve been - something - all this time.”

Koutarou patted his shoulder. “We were still something,” he said.

Kuroo stood up straight, smiling a little. “Oh, really?”

Koutarou avoided his eyes for a little, flush rising on his face. “Well, yeah,” he said. “Come on, it’s you and me, right? Of course we were something.”

Kuroo hummed, amused. “Alright,” he said, and Koutarou decided to shut him up before he could make more judgmental statements, leaning in to kiss him again.

Kuroo kissed him back for a while before grinning again. “Stop smiling, I’m trying to kiss you and it’s in the way,” Koutarou said, whining a little against his lips.

“Nah,” Kuroo said. “Don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

**Author's Note:**

> talk bokukuro in love to me at [twitter](http://twitter.com/tivruskis) and [tumblr](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com) \- both as tivruskis. eicinic has done some _amazing_ art based on this fic, and i strongly urge you to check it out! you can find it [here](http://eicinic.tumblr.com/post/120396932480/waves-hand-from-bokukuroo-hell-sup-folks-i) and the gym selfie [here](http://eicinic.tumblr.com/post/119874484445/a-bunch-of-sketches-from-twitter-and-livestream-i) (the tongue piercing kuroo sports isn't canon in this fic, alas. that's sequel material).


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